


The Case of the Missing Microscope

by shiverfawkes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, M/M, Teenage Rosie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16928487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiverfawkes/pseuds/shiverfawkes
Summary: Sherlock can't find his microscope. A simple deduction pins Rosie as the culprit.





	The Case of the Missing Microscope

**Author's Note:**

> shitty, short, and pretty pointless. I just wanted to write some fluff, to try and get back into a work flow because I'm feeling pretty iffy at the moment. 
> 
> hope you enjoy it anyway.

“Rosamund?” Sherlock called, routing around the kitchen, trying not to tear it apart as he did so, but he couldn’t find what he was looking for and it was starting to get infuriating.

John would complain if he started to tear the kitchen apart.

“It’s Rosie, Lock.” The teenager replied, coming down the stairs into the kitchen.

They’d been having this debate since the start of the month, Rosie was seventeen now, and seemingly intent on the nickname she had, disgusted by anything else. Sherlock, ever set in his ways had been annoying her mercilessly.

She didn’t really mind, except when he did it in front of her friends or one of her boyfriends. Which he did on the regular, the mixture of shock and annoyance on her face was worth the punches to the arm he received every time.

He gave a hum in response, standing up from where he was crouching, his back cracking as he stood up properly. “I’m sure it is, what have you done with my microscope?” He asked, turning round to face her.

She was dressed up, makeup done, hair curled boots on, clearly prepared for a date with her latest. Sherlock didn’t really like how much she flitted from boy to boy, but he supposed he didn’t know what it was like. He’d spent his teenage-hood being the youngest in university. It wasn’t really up to him anyway, she was very independent these days, needless to say he was very proud of her.

Her face reddened slightly under her foundation, she was ringing her wrists behind her back thinking he couldn’t see. “Oh uh…”

“Broken then, how this time? Boyfriend? I don’t doubt it, I’m sure John will be pleased to hear you were making out with somebody at our kitchen table.” They had quite a teasing relationship, always had. He wasn’t terribly upset about it, but it did ruin his plans for the evening. Rosie was generally quite honest, she got that from John, and she felt quite strongly about things being fair, also from John. So, it was incredibly likely she’d give him the money for it, once she got payed.

She groaned at him like he was the one in the wrong. “You’re such a cock!” Rosie shouted at him, tailing him as he paraded round the living room, looking for his phone. He had half a mind to tell her to watch her language, but the phrase spoken made her sound so much like her dad he didn’t have the heart to.

“Says the one who broke my microscope.” He retorted instead.

A look of guilt crossed her face, and she tucked her curled hair behind her ear. “I was going to replace it, I just need to save up the money, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“Whose knickers are twisted, bud?” John asked as he walked through the door, smiling as Sherlock pressed a kiss to his cheek, before pulling the doctor’s phone from his pocket, at this point John had given up any protest to that. “You look lovely darling, date tonight?”

“Lock’s, I broke his microscope, accident. Yeah, I’m meeting Andrew outside the pub.” She replied, looking increasingly more dejected when John sighed at her.

“Can’t you go to Bart’s?” The doctor asked, turning to Sherlock who was now sat in his chair, texting on John’s phone to god knows who. He knew Rosie, now she’d gotten a job was generally quite good at paying things back, or replacing things she broke, given her clumsy nature. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind so long as it’s not nuclear or something.”

Sherlock laughed at that. “I could but QI is on later, I was going to do the experiment in the ad breaks.” He replied, looking up, and handing the doctor his phone back.

“You hate QI.” John spoke pointedly, hanging his coat up and checking his phone to see who the detective had texted, to no avail, he was always crafty about deleting things. John didn’t doubt it was just a text to Greg. If he wasn’t doing an experiment he’d be pouring over a cold-case.

“You like it though, and you’re warm.” Sherlock spoke, pulling the doctor down by his jumper to kiss him properly. “Seeing as Rosamund is going out, I thought we’d stay in.” John smiled at that, always up for cuddling on the sofa, he pressed another kiss to the detectives lips.

“Gross.”

Sherlock pulled away to glare at Rosie mockingly. “Oh, piss off.” She grinned at him and he rolled his eyes, before standing up and pulling something from his dressing gown pocket. A twenty-pound note, he’d been wondering why he had it there, he’d put it there last week. “Here, for your date with Adam.”

“Andrew.” Rosie corrected, taking the note off him “Thanks Lock!” She stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek, a habit she’d developed, considering he wasn’t too fussed on a lot of contact without warning. “Bye dad.” She gave John a quick side hug before heading out the door.

“Anytime, Rosamund.” Sherlock called after her.

“It’s still Rosie!”

John pressed a gentle kiss to Sherlock’s lips again, now he was sitting on the arm of the detective’s chair as said detective flopped back into it. “I thought you’d be more pissed about the microscope, considering how it happened.” He spoke quietly, resting his forehead against the younger man’s, happy just to be in his company, he’d been working a lot at the clinic lately, Sherlock at the yard.

“Worked that one out did you?” Sherlock smiled, John Watson, always surprising him.

John laughed. “’Fraid so.” He replied, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead, having the height advantage now.

“She’s a teenager, they do stuff like that don’t they? All a part of growing up.”

“I’m surprised you’d know, you were barely human when I met you.” Sherlock rolled his eyes at that, knowing John didn’t mean it.

“Well, I had a good example.”

“So, you’re not going to bother about the microscope.”

“Not yet anyway. I don’t think it warrants a punishment if she’s going to replace it.”  He shrugged, pressing his face into the crook of John’s neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the exposed skin before he spoke again. “Besides we’ve done worse than make out on that table.”

“Sherlock!”


End file.
